After Hour Comforts
by DisneyNerds
Summary: "'You disgust me.' An arrow stared her blank in the face as she froze under the glare her partner had on his face. 'Clint...' She whispered desperately. 'Go to Hell.' The arrow released." The nightmares flow through Natasha's mind as she is tormented by Loki's and her conversation. Can Clint Barton see past her iron gaze and comfort her in the training room of the Avenger's Tower?


**A/N:** Hi, this is Olivia (the other twin)! This drabble is just something I had written recently, inspired by rewatching the Avengers, and once again swooning over the major Clintasha feels!

"_You disgust me."_

_An arrow stared her blank in the face as she froze under the glare her partner had on his face._

"_Clint..." She whispered desperately._

"_Go to Hell."_

_The arrow released._

"No!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. She lurched forward, sitting up in her large, queen-sized bed. The room in the Avengers tower laid in silence as she gasped for a breath shaken to the bone by her dream... nightmare. Placing her trembling fingers against her cheek, she felt a sheen of sticky sweat, as if she had just run a marathon on the indoor track.

After collecting herself as much as she could, Natasha Romanov silently pulled back the down comforter and gently rested her feet on the cold, wooden floor. Putting on a pair of black sweats and a dark red tank top, she grabbed the keychain to her door and locked it, making her way out into the hallway and as far away from her bed as she could get.

Her entire gaze was focused on the moving target in front of her, training her black pistol on the red dot. Stark had built a fully-equipped workout room, yet she normally only used the firing range. Her eyes zeroed in on the gouges that marked the worn out dummys, clearly made by sharp arrows. A shiver ran down her spine and she reaimed her gun, shooting the target between the eyes.

"Calm down Tasha" She muttered under her breath. "This is ridiculous."

"Nat, what are you doing?"

She whipped her body around like a viper, fear swimming in her eyes, shakily pointing her gun at her partner.

When she noticed who sat against the wall, she slowly lowered her weapon, exhaling a trembling breath through her nose.

"Clint." She sighed and an image of pure hatred flashing across her mind. She turned back to the range, zeroing in on the new target, thankfully arrow free. "Just training."

She could hear him stand up, his grey shirt rubbing against the wall, and approach her with light footsteps.

"At 2:30 in the morning?" He asked, unconvinced. Her shoulders tensed and she took another deep breath.

"You know me, Clint. I'm never off the clock." A few more bullets rang out, each striking a vital point on the target. He stood so close, she could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

"Natasha, tell me-" A calloused hand gently touched her forearm.

She quickly took a step back and placed the pistol on the arms case. "I'm not talking about it, Clint."

His huff of anger echoed in the massive room. "I'm your partner, Natasha. I need to know what's wrong." She ignored his plea and started towards the door.

"Not this time, Barton."

Her hand touched the doorknob when two rough hands grabbed her by the arms and whipped her around, pinning her to the wall.

"Dammit, Nat! Talk to me!" His eyes blazed with both anger and anguish. His toned arms shook with frustration, and she could feel the grip on her arms tighten.

"I can't-"

"Bullshit." He spat out, making her flinch. His stare hardened and she felt all of her ability to resist flee from her body. Silently, she allowed her legs to give out and she sank to the ground, head falling into her arms. Her partner sat beside her, both of them leaning against the wall. The spot was still warm from where his back was minutes ago. She wondered how long he had to have sat there to leave a heat signature. They sat for a moment in the quiet, the ticking of the clock occasionally breaking the stillness.

"That night Loki... turned you," She had been speaking into her arms, but now lifted her head across the room, eyes far away from where the two sat.

"...I should have been there."

"You couldn't have known-" He began, but her blue eyes had already shined with moisture as she fiercely turned on him.

"But I should have, Clint!"

His eyes widened in shock, both by her outburst and by the tears threatening to fall. If it was one thing she was skilled at, it was that no matter the situation, broken rib or knife wound, the Black Widow never cried.

"Before you came back," Her fingers tightened around her upper arms. "I went to see Loki."

He sighed and ran his fingers through his short hair.

"I know that, Nat. What did he say to you?"

It almost looked as if she would draw blood by the grip she had on herself. Her head turned away, unable to face his troubled stare.

"I asked what would happen when you came back. When you got your mind back." A ragged breath shuddered out, and she pulled into herself even more. A moment sat where she stopped speaking altogether, lost in terrible thoughts.

"Natasha." He whispered, pulling her back to their previous talk when she brought him back, when she avoided the subject. He wouldn't let her do that this time.

"He said he would make you kill me, in every way you know terrifies me." Natasha thought about it so much, she could nearly repeat the psychopath's words. "And I dream about it. Once I think it's gone away," she chuckled humorously, "I wake up screaming again. That's why I come down here, pretending that the target is his head, and that I can put a bullet through it."

Clint sat next to her without making a sound. He couldn't believe that he terrorized his partner, his best friend, night after night without ever realizing it. He should've noticed. He saw them now, the dark circles under her eyes, the pale complexion on her skin, flaws unrecognizable to anyone but himself. And he felt like a damn fool for not seeing it.

Gently, he pulled her into his arms, shifting so they both rested comfortably with her fiery red hair tucked underneath his chin.

"I'm so sorry, Nat." He whispered into her head, gripping her tighter. He couldn't do anything about her nightly torments, she had to face those alone. But he was damn well sure that now that he was awake, he would be there for her when she woke up too.

And so they sat together until daybreak, before separating to return to their rooms, each feeling slightly more safe than the night before.

Because they were partners, if only that for now.

**A/N: ** Good? Bad? Let us know! Can't wait to read your guys' reviews! 'Til Next Time!

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